You'll Be In My Heart  Love Language in Hetalia
by HitachiinElephant
Summary: A bunch of mini-stories of our favorite Hetalia characters on a camping trip and falling for the buddy they're camping with. Will take requests on this one!
1. America x Canada

America – _You'll be In My Heart_

X

Canada - _Parce que tu vis __dans mon __coeur_

A young blond sat outside, staring up at the stars in wonder. He hugged his stuffed bear close to him as he just sat there, smiling.

It had been a long day for Matthew. He was visiting Alfred to stay overnight. He had been a little lonely lately, so he thought America could cheer him up. And that, he did. The played games all day and talked about what's been going on. They even had some fun stalking Britain around until they were caught. Then it was a game of Don't Get Caught by Britain.

The two had a blast. It was as if they were kids again.

Now, because the brunette wanted to show how much of a hero he was, they were going to camp outside for the night in sleeping bags. Canada didn't oppose the idea. He was quite used to the outdoors, anyway.

Something about the night, however, fascinated him. It was just so… So wondrous and magical. It was as if the stars were magical dust caught in a blanket of dreams and wishes. When ever he saw a shooting star, the male thought someone's wish came true that night.

"I'm back!" His voice called from behind Matt. It was Alfred, returning with firewood. "Sorry it took me so long. Hope you missed me." He laughed a little as he sat on the ground, arranging the sticks into a little tepee. "Wanna help me start this blaze?"

Canada smiled and nodded, carefully setting his bear on his bag. He kneeled before the pile and glanced around for some rocks. He found two good looking ones and scraped them together a few times to create a spark, lighting a small fire that quickly grew.

"Nature boy," Al teased lightly.

"Hero guy," the blond retorted playfully.

Soon, they had a warm flame burning before them. They moved their sleeping bags closer to the fire. It was pretty cool that night. They warmed themselves up and had a snack of a few roasted marshmallows.  
>After a while, Canada looked back up to the stars, watching the sky again. America did the same, wondering what he was looking at. But now that he looked, he couldn't seem to look away. He never noticed how pretty the sky looked at night, but pretty seemed like too much of an understatement to him.<p>

Suddenly, a star flew past them, only appearing for a few seconds.

"Dude! A shooting star! Make a wish!" The brunette squeezed his eyes tightly as he seemed to wish with all his might.

Matthew laughed softly and closed his eyes as well. He thought for a moment, wondering whose wish came true, then came up with a wish of his own.

_I wish Alfred and I could hang out like this more often…_

Just as he finished his wish, a freezing wind blew by, blowing out the fire. All that was left were bits of burnt twigs and ashes now.

"That wasn't nice," Alfred mumbled, pulling his sleeping bag tighter around him.

Unfortunately, the blond's bag wasn't as thick, leaving him shivering a little. "C-Came out of nowhere." It was as if that one breeze froze him to the bone.

His friend noticed this and moved closer to him, wrapping an arm and some of his sleeping bag around his shoulder. "Freak winds blowing around here… Kinda weird. By the way, what did you wish for?"

Matthew was surprised at this act of kindness, but not exactly offended. He hesitated a moment, still taking in the act, then answered his question. "I just wished for us to hang out more like this, but now that I told you…" He paused a moment, remembering the superstition. "I guess it won't come true." He frowned and looked away. He had so much fun today, and it was probably the last one he would ever have.

Al chuckled softly and nuzzled Canada's hair. "Silly Canadian. Just because you told your wish, doesn't mean it won't come true. For example, I wished that you would be mine…"

Matthew froze. America… America _wanted_ him? The blond never knew. Never, ever, _ever_ had he expected the American to want him.

Just before he could reply, however, he felt the brunette kiss the corner of his lips ever so lightly. Just that one kiss made Matt's head spin. His cheeks burned with fire, flashing all sorts of reds and pinks. He looked up at America in confusion, wonder, surprise… It was almost as if he was looking up at the night sky again. For once, he saw a twinkle in his eye, just like the magic above them. And those blue rings… Those blue rings were like the blanket of dreams and wishes.

"So," he whispered, smiling softly at the blond, "_will_ you be mine?"

Matthew couldn't look away from the night sky caught in Alfred's eyes, but there was only one answer that came to mind.

"_Parce que tu vis__dans mon__cœur._" With that, he carefully pushed their lips together, meeting for the first time. It was absolutely… _Dreamy_.

Above their heads, two stars flew across the night sky, lighting up the darkness for the mere seconds they were seen.

* * *

><p>Woot! First one is one of my favorite pairings, AmeriCanada! At least, that's what I call it x3<p>

. . .

I wanna sit outside and look at the clear night sky now! D8 Darn Matty gets all the fun :/ lol


	2. Germany x Italy

Germany - _Du __wirst __in meinem Herzen __sein_

X

Italy - _Sarete __nel mio __cuore_

The curl on the side of his head bounced every time Italy turned his head. He would look every direction, hoping Germany would return soon. He didn't like being alone, especially in the dark like this. Who knows what could be out there? Good thing Italy always has a white flag with him at all times, ready for action.

"Germany," he whimpered to himself, pulling his legs up to his chest. "Germany, where are you?"

Off in the distance, he heard a snap of a twig. He squeaked at the sound, watching in the direction it came from. Someone was coming through the bushes, closer, closer. Italy immediately brought out his flag and waved it frantically. "Don't hit me! White flag, see? White flag! White flag!"

"Italy, calm down! It's just me!" His German friend parted the brush to reveal himself. Ludwig smiled slightly to comfort the cowardly one.

"Germany!" The shorter one leaped from the ground, dropping his flag as he hugged the blond tightly. "You were gone so long! I thought someone had caught you or you were being attacked by a bear or you were abandoning me in the woods or-"

"_Beruhigen Sie sich_, Italy!" The taller one was able to peel the other off him and set him back on the ground. "You have got to stop worrying so much."

The Italian stared up at him. "But-"

"But nothing." Ludwig was determined to convince the pasta-lover that nothing could go wrong out here. "First of all, there is no one here to catch us. We are in the middle of the woods! Second, there are no bears in this area. And even if there were, I could have easily lost it.

"As for abandoning you…" He sighed and sat on the ground, staring at the little campfire he made earlier.

"… _Were_ you trying to leave me here, Germany?" Italy sat beside him, watching him curiously.

The blue-eyed male thought for a moment. He wasn't trying to leave him. Of course not. But… There was something more on his mind about this silly little being.

"_Nein_," he sighed again, looking slightly away from Italy. "I wouldn't leave you by yourself Italy. I'm not that cruel. And I wouldn't leave you because… Because…"

He couldn't do it. He closed his eyes, his hands began to tremble, he couldn't find his voice anymore, nor the power to say it… The strong Ludwig was breaking inside.

All of a sudden, the other rested a hand on one of those clenched fists, ceasing the shaking instantly. The blue eyes flashed open and looked to Veneziano, who was looking straight at him with open eyes. Rarely ever did the German ever see those… _Lovely_ hazel eyes.

"Germany? Is something wrong?"

It was if, right there and then, Germany had everything he needed to say what he wanted, couldn't find the right words now. With great caution, he raised his free hand to gently take the other's chin. He gauged Italy's reaction to this. All he did, however, give a quite "Huh?" of confusion.

Taking this as an okay sign, Ludwig carefully leaned in and just barely kissed Italy. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see the fear on the other's face. It would be too much.

But instead, the Italian leaned in more, deepening the kiss. It was as if the hazel-eyed one wanted this just as much as Germany did.

With that thought in his mind, Ludwig pulled back and smiled, taking a good, long look into those hazel orbs.

"_Du__wirst__in meinem Herzen__sein_, Italy."

* * *

><p>Yeeeaaahhh... Not that great, I know. _ It's hard, working with Italy... Germany is kinda workable, but still tough for me.<p>

Plus this is my first GermanyxItaly... I think they call it GerIta... I don't know.. I can't keep up with you young people like me XD


	3. France x Britain

Britain – _You'll be In My Heart_

X

France - _Parce que tu vis __dans mon __cœur_

"Ah, ze great outdoors! So much fresh air!" Francis was standing before a small river that flowed past the campsite he and Arthur choose for the night. "Isn't it magnificent, Sir Britain?"

"Yes. Absolutely lovely." He was obviously not paying attention as he put up both their tents. He was struggling with France's, though. "While you're enjoying that fresh air, why don't you come over here and help me with your tent?"

"Hm?" The French blond turned to look at the British one. "Oh, I am not sleeping in a tent, silly! I'm sleeping outside under ze stars!"

Kirkland glared at the French man. "What? I brought another tent out for nothing? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

Francis smiled weakly. "My apologies."

Suddenly, the pole that England had in his hand slipped and snapped across his face, making him screech in pain. The rest of the tent, or what he had built anyway, fell into a pile of poles and fabric.

"Sir Britain!" The blue eyed male rushed over to the other. "_Mon dieu_, are you alright?"

The one with emerald eyes hissed at the pain, but nodded to the blond. "I'm fine, France. I'm fine." He dropped his hand from his face, a bit of red liquid on his palm.

Seeing the blood, France pulled Kirkland's face up to look at him. "Arthur! Your face! I-It's bleeding!"

It wasn't as bad as he made it sound. Britain had a scar going up his cheek and forehead, and it was a dark shade of red. He couldn't open the eye the pole got very well, but he was still able to see out of it. A little blood was oozing from his cheek and a little bit from his forehead, but nothing too bad.

Arthur sighed and wiped the blood off on his shirt. "Really, you twit, I'm fine. It just stings a little. That's all."

The taller male shook his head and pulled him toward the river. "_Je __n'aime pas_. You have to clean yourself up at least. Sit."

If he wasn't in so much pain, the Englishman wouldn't have sat, but he did with a sigh. "There might be a towel in my bag if you need one." He closed his good eye and covered the other one with his hand again.

He could here the quiet splashing of the water before him. How did he find a wash rag so quickly? Soon, he heard falling water, going from a lot to a few drips.

"Sir Britain," he cooed, his voice soft, "You are going to have to move your hand."

The shorter male hesitated a moment, wondering if he should really let his guard down. But the French one had been kind for now. So, with a sigh, he let his hand down and opened the other eye. His face quickly flushed a bright red from the sight before him, though.

France was kneeling in front of him, now with no shirt to show off his slender figure better.

England immediately panicked. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU BLOODY GIT? PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON!" He smacked away the hand dabbing the blood away.

The other looked hurt by this action. "I was just trying to help, _mon __ami! _Now please, hold still!" He tried to clean the thick redness off his face again.

"I will not hold still!" He pushed the hand away. "If you're just going to take off your shirt, then I'll do it myse-"

The Brit was interrupted by the other's lips smoldering his own. Normally, Kirkland would have thrown a fit and cursed the man to no end. But instead, he fought back only a little, pushing him weakly. Britain tried to be resistant, but Francis had the advantage of being French, therefore, being an insanely good kisser. Even England couldn't resist.

Soon he found himself pushing himself closer to the French man, wrapping his arms around his neck. He was so into the kiss now, the pain had left his mind. Now all he could think about was Francis, Francis, Francis. He felt a pair of hands on his hips, stopping him from pushing any farther.

France pulled away, resting two fingers on the other blond's lips. "_Maintenant, maintenant, ma jolie_. We mustn't get too carried away. We still have to clean you up. Now sit back, please."

With shaky breaths, Britain sat back and let him clean the blood off. When the wet shirt would rub over the open parts of the scar, the Brit would wince slightly. But each time he did, he felt France's thumb rub the back of his hand in soothing circles.

It only took a few minutes to clean the blood off Arthur's face. When he finished, the scar had healed up a bit.

"Britain," Francis said softly as he dipped his shirt in the water again, "your shirt… Would you like me to clean it?"

The emerald-eyed one looked down at his jacket and sighed. "No, no. I got it." He unbuttoned the top before sliding it off his shoulders and scrubbing the blood out of it next to his French companion. A feeling inside of the Brit was boiling inside him, but he didn't know what it was yet. All he knew was that he wanted to feel the other's lips on his own again and those hands on his body.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, doing the best they could to clean their shirts, but a little blood was still left for both.

"I guess we'll have to wash zem when we get back home, no?" France sighed, smiling at the other.

Britain held up his shirt and nodded. "Guess so. Here, I have a bag in my tent. I'll put our shirts there so they don't get everything wet." He took France's shirt and threw it in a bag with his own before joining him by the water again.

Francis had his eyes on the water, watching the shimmering moon's reflection. "Ah, the night is beautiful, Sir Britain. Will you join me in sleeping under the stars tonight?"

England sighed, trying to sound as if he didn't want to. "I guess." He sat next to the other blond, leaning back on his hands.

Francis already knew what the other wanted. It was so obvious. But just to make sure, he locked his arms around Britain's waist, smirking with a soft chuckle.

As usual, the other male threw a fit, but not as fussy. "Let me go, you…! You…!" He couldn't do it. He could call him a snail-slurping twit or a frog-eating wanker. He couldn't and didn't want to hurt him anymore. He sighed and stopped his fussing, leaning into the blue-eyed one. "You crazy Frenchy."

France let out another quiet laugh before he kissed Arthur's ear. "_Je t'aime, mon petit ange_."


End file.
